


Sway

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:13:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has been shut down for days. It feels like decades.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sway

**Author's Note:**

> [Fanart by Iva.](http://oolongteamix.tumblr.com/post/22739064375/quick-sketch-for-jamies-sweet-fic-sway)

Derek has been shut down for days. Stiles felt it before the wolves did, which is something none of them acknowledge aloud, but is always understood. He probably senses more than Derek feels comfortable with him seeing, but it's inevitable so Derek doesn't fight it.  
He's been locked up in his partially renovated house for three days; and they've all gone knocking but he never answers. Scott, Jackson, and Lydia say that they don't even hear him stir. He is still, frozen, maybe even paralyzed; and they don't understand, but they try and they love him. He is theirs as much as they are his so they try.  
Stiles is the only one who really comprehends and it's one of the few things he never opens his mouth about. He carries Derek's secrets like he carries his heart and home, in his ribcage, quietly moving along and tending to it all, protecting and challenging and forcing the man to grow and open. They all know it will be years before Derek ever has a legitimate, straight forward conversation with any of them, but they don't care about that because they know he already does it with Stiles and he has what he needs. Some day, maybe it will happen, or maybe not. They feel righted and settled knowing he has exactly what he needs and that someone is caring for him like he cares for the rest of them.  
Stiles is dimmer and preoccupied. They all feel uneasy when Stiles isn't fully Stiles. He is worried and that makes the rest of the pack worry. Scott sees him texting Derek periodically throughout each day and he doesn't know what his friend is saying to their alpha, but he hopes that it's something that Derek at least looks at and sees. He hopes Derek sees Stiles. It's the smartest thing Scott has ever hoped for.

It's now been four days. It feels like decades.

Stiles spends an evening outside Derek's house planting sunflowers. He tediously plants a long row along the side of the house as Lydia silently watches him from the woods. She knows he probably knows she's there, after months of running with the pack he is as close to one of them as if he had been changed too. Stiles' empathy is something Lydia can smell on him from a mile away, she was not surprised by how easily he took to tuning into wolves.  
Stiles finishes the row, then takes out packets of seeds. They are wildflowers and they're probably full of bright colors and ugly tangles of green stems; they will look like weeds that have been painted to fool someone from far away into thinking they're beautiful blooms. Stiles begins tossing the seeds about, not really paying attention. Then he sits on the ground and stares up at the house. He doesn't speak a word and Lydia can smell the determination begin to take over and press the helplessness away. She nods, feeling satisfied, and leaves him to his vigil. 

At midnight, Stiles gets a text. He's laying on the cool ground, flexing his fingers into the dirt, trying not to fall asleep. The message is from Derek: Go home Stiles.  
Stiles raises his eyebrows at his phone and tosses it aside into the grass. He lays there three more hours until he decides that he's had enough. The guy can lock himself up all he wants but Stiles will be damned if he lets him shut them all off. He sprints up to the porch and bangs on the door.  
“Hey asshole! I planted sunflowers. Let me in!” He continues hitting the door and yelling stupid shit up at the house, trying to convince Derek to at least unlock the door and let him in.  
He's spent weeks on this house, leaving some parts old but rebuilding, sanding, and painting others. He's dragged in couches, and blankets, and he's filled the kitchen with food. He's sat on the floors inches away from Derek, staying silent, enjoying just being. He's been given secrets across the counter between orders on how to chop vegetables. Derek has spilled serious words between commands and his heart has spilled out into Stiles's hands only to be followed by, “And don't touch the damn stove, I don't want the placed burned to the ground again.”  
He knows the empty spaces Derek doesn't think he sweeps and he knows the new places that are bright and more homey than any of them ever expected.  
Stiles decides he's not just worried, he's pissed.  
He hits the door hard, one last time and screams furiously, “This is my house too, you know! You don't get to just give that and then take it away and shut down on me! It's my house too!” 

He slumps against the door, catching his breath. He begins to consider breaking a window and he's calculating the likelihood of serious injury if he tries it when he hears the lock slide. He flails a bit, getting to his feet and by the time he's standing the door is opened and Derek is standing in front of him looking lost, pale, and a little hollow. Stiles sighs, feeling relieved and simultaneously worried all over again, but at least he's in.  
He looks Derek in the eye and orders him, “Go.” The man turns around and Stiles follows, shutting the door behind him.  
They go up to his bedroom and he gently pushes him down onto the mattress and lays on his side, fitting himself up against him. He presses his face into Derek's neck and mumbles, “When did you last eat, dude? And do I need to bring in a bucket of water to douse you in and Febreeze you or have you at least dragged yourself to the shower a couple times?”  
Derek breathes in deep and makes a noncommittal hum in reply, but his arm tightens just slightly around Stiles' back. So he takes that as a good sign.  
Stiles begins whispering into Derek's skin above his collarbone. He tells him how Jackson and Lydia got into a scuffle outside of the diner and how Allison gave them both this long lecture about decorum and 'pack pride' and actually managed to make them look ashamed of their behavior. He fits in little confessions between stories about his childhood and things he's read on the internet. He whispers about how worried he was. He mumbles about how off kilter he'd felt and he feels Derek's collarbone vibrate with his voice a bit. He hopes it helps. He hopes the man can feel him speaking as much as he can hear him. He wants to be useful and it's been rough feeling so helpless.  
After an hour straight of stories and mini-confessions, Derek finally opens his eyes and turns to him, looking a little more alive than before.  
“Why did you plant sunflowers outside my house?” He almost sounds offended. Like someone will walk up and see sunflowers and think he's lost his 'alpha cred' or something.  
Stiles just stares at him blankly, “What do you mean?”  
“The flowers. Why did you plant a whole wall of sunflowers and then put every wild animal at risk within a ten foot radius when you flailed your arms around with those seeds afterward? It was a tragic sight.”  
Stiles snorts and pokes at him. “I planted them because I wanted to.”  
Derek frowns a little and shuts his eyes, “You're turning my house into a botanical garden. I don't like it.”  
Stiles looks up at his face for a long time before answering.  
“It's my house too. I'll put as much good as I want into it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Ilse](http://thispersonisillogical.tumblr.com/) and [Marina](http://dragoonthegreat.tumblr.com/) for giving me a quick beta. 
> 
> Title is a reference to the song Sway by The Kooks


End file.
